Once upon a time in July 1981...
there was an innocent, smarty pants young lady who had never flown before. her husband's job transferred him from Buffalo, NY to Omaha, Ne.... of all places... and they were being flown out to Omaha to find a place to live.
not only was the lady afraid to fly, she was going to be moving to tornado country and that scared her to death. they had also recently watched a special on TV called "the day after".. a movie about Offutt Air Base being the first place in the USA to be bombed should there be a nuclear strike, as it was the Strategic Air Command headquarters. in 1981 that was a high alert issue.
together, those things scared the shit out of her. but flying? that was a PHOBIA. as in claustrophobia. she was going to be brave though, with the philosophy that if the plane crashed, she and her beloved would go down together. [mind you, the diarrhea she'd had all week from her fears didn't help but dying together was still comforting to her in a very sick way]. go figure.
a few days before the flight someone in their apartment complex wanted to show her some new kittens and possibly give her one. off she gleefully trotted to this gal's apartment- "la la la dee da... gOin tO see sOme kitties... gOin to see sOme kitty kats... la la la.."
just. like. that.
much like lil red riding hood off to see the gramma in the deep dark woods.. but the lady didn't have a basket.
she entered said gal's apartment and made herself comfy on the couch. she heard a ruckus in the kitchen area which was not visible to her and then the gal brought out the cutest fluffiest kitten for her to see..
meanwhile, the ruckus got louder, the kitten ran away scared into one of the bedrooms and before she could spit or even blink an eye a monster was in her face growling, attacking, and had bitten her in the neck! it all happened SO quickly that it left the lady dazed and cornfused. WTF had happened, she wondered..
in a few moments when she pulled herself together she saw the gal held the skin and neck of a HUGE UGLY pit-bull that STILL gnarled at her with drooly teeth to try for seconds! the gal apologized and attempted to restrain the
fucker dog and EVENTUALLY got him back in his crate... hence the ruckus she heard earlier.
the gal came back with a washcloth placed on the lady's jugular which the monster had nicked just enough that blood squirted out with every heartbeat. the lady called her husband to come get her, he took her to the E.R. where butterfly stitches were placed on her neck. the bleeding had stopped. she wasn't going to die that day.
fast forward 3 mornings.
it was time to board the plane. the lady was nauseated and STILL had the trots. they were seated. she was between hubby by the window and a very large man on the isle seat. she felt claustrophobic. couldn't breathe. the plane took off. she white knuckled hubby's arm. they got to altitude and she had to use the
closet restroom in a bad way.
the flight was not quite 2 hours from Buffalo to Omaha... and she spent most of the time in the closet. the size of the restroom did not help her claustrophobia. AT ALL. she white knuckled the railings on either side of the throne. she couldn't stop pooping long enough to exit the closet. spasm after spasm.. her ass was raw.. her neck hurt so much. in the mirror she saw a small multi-colored mango sat on her shoulder that freaked her out. OHMYGOD she yelled out loud- it was her neck! it was her fucking dog bite gone bad.
suddenly the plane hit turbulence. the warning light came on right next to the throne. WTF was that, she said out loud? then came a small knock on the closet door & the stewardess asked the lady to return to her seat and buckle up due to the turbulence.
the lady was still on the throne. she opened the door and between big loud sobs asked the stewardess if the plane was going to crash and proceeded to call out for her hubby... who pretended he didn't even know her.
the stewardess attempted to comfort the hysterical lady on the throne but dinner:impossible there. the lady begged to stay in the closet as she could not stop pooping. then she vomited and felt the toilet water splash up against her ass as the plane was in turbulence. her fear of flushing and being sucked outta the plane via the throne scared her even more. panic set in. she prayed not to die then and there.
FEAR was a many splendored thing...at that point, the lady didn't even care that she had made a scene with the door propped open or that the nearby passengers knew the details of the weirdo in the closet.
fast forward a very LONG flight..
she spent nearly the whole time in the closet and embarrassed her husband... eventually she was able to return to her seat just prior to landing. even the fat isle guy told her she acted like a baby. she was SO upset in too many ways to count.
when they landed, it was 60 degrees when they left Buffalo and in Omaha it was 99 degrees plus the humidity. on her shoulder sat the multi-colored mango that used to be her neck. the heat slapped her in the face like a flyswatter that killed a fly. she suddenly began to have chest pain and hyperventilated... collapsed in the terminal and was taken by ambulance to the E.R.
many tests later she was told she had anxiety attacks and given valium to take when one began. you see, she had been having these attacks over the past year ever since she and hubby nearly died in an auto accident. you can read about it hErE.
when ever anyone said anything about death, she had those episodes. she had never even contemplated "post traumatic stress disorder" from the accident then the dog bite then the tornadoes then the nuclear strike.. all those things in and each of themselves was a trauma to be dealt with let alone all of them put together! she finally discovered that her heart was fine, but anxiety attacks were hers for the taking.
fast forward 2 weeks..
spent in Omaha looking at apartments etc. because that would be their future home. she tried to enjoy the visit- stayed in a hotel, went swimming, ate out, all on hubby's company of course... but the dreaded trip home on the plane lurked in the back of her mind much like a stalker of gloom.
to boarding for the return flight to Buffalo. she had taken her valium. she had a few drinks on the plane. she had just begun to relax and actually enjoy the flight. they were to be home shortly as she saw the city of Buffalo below. deep sigh, nothing to be afraid of. people flew all the time.. yadda yadda yadda.
suddenly the plane veered sharply to the left and she hit her head against the window she had previously enjoyed looking at the view from... everyone screamed... she freaked the FUCK out. soon the captain said over the loud speaker he was very sorry for what just happened as a small commuter plane got "too close for comfort" and he had to "do what he did" to avoid a collision. he stated he would re-circle the airport and attempt to land again.
she shit her pants. [well, nearly]
she had let her guard down before that occurred. she felt a betrayal of sorts as fear consumed her once again. according to the lady it was too close for comfort. she vowed she would never fly again. yes, she finally landed safely blah blah blah... multi-colored-mango-necked-valium-induced-traumatized lady that she was.... but that, my friends....
is why MY lil feet will neVah leave the ground again.